Teacups and Snowdrifts: an England x Fem Russia fanfic
by Band Geek Gotta March
Summary: With her economy down and her boss threatening her to make it better, Anya (Russia) seeks help from Arthur (England) in building it back up. Chaos, romance, and hilarity ensues as she moves in with Arthur, who's unaware that she's a woman, while negotiating new trade routes. Will she keep her secret and succeed in her mission, or will she fail her mission with her cover blown?
1. Prelude

Prelude: Fem. Russia's POV-

"Look Ms. Braginskaya, as much as I absolutely abhor saying this: we, no you, are in deep trouble. With heavy economic depression and a lack of proper harvest over the past several years, your people are suffering. I understand that you do not wish to admit that you are in need of help, but now is not the time to be putting your pride first. I am sending you to meet with Mr. Kirkland, or as you know him, Mr. England. With any luck, you will be able to befriend him, and will be able to begin openly trading with his people; Mr. Kirkland himself may not be much, but he can still open several trading routes for us through his former colonies, so do your best."

I glance up from my office chair at my boss, not enjoying the tirade in the least. He knows that I am fully aware of my people's plight; he has seen me working with the local kitchens and orphanages after all. Looking down again at my lap, being slightly intimidated by the darkly handsome face of my boss, as par usual, I am shocked by the feel of his hand softly caressing my cheek. Peering up quickly, I notice that he's leaning over the large mahogany desk; I instantly have my eyes locked on his dark and reflective orbs, not trusting this new softness of touch.

"Oh, and Ms. Anya,' He sneered with a cold smirk, 'please do remember to continue keeping your gender a secret, hmm?" He asks; his tone making it abundantly clear that he would not stand for any sort of disagreement.

It was then that he withdrew from his intimate hold of me. Standing from the high-backed guest chair on the opposite side of my desk, he choose then to bid me ado and wish me well until next we met; just as soon as those threatening words slipped past his lips, he non-verbally excused himself and confidently strides out of my personal office. The thick mahogany door quietly slams closed, and a violent shudder runs through my body.

'I've not once before seen him act in such a rash manner. Note to self: From now on, beware of boss's actions. Also, get Estonia to bug the boss's phone later.' I think to myself, my shivers beginning to subside and my nerves beginning to calm after I down the remains of my glass of vodka.

"Lithuania,' I speak into the house intercom, 'as soon as you get the chance, please bring me another glass of vodka; I'll be waiting in my office. Also, please have Latvia pack a pair of suitcases for me; I will be taking an extended trip to Mr. England's home, and I shall need my clothing, makeup, and wig. Thank you" I finish asking the boy, not bothering to lower my voice. (The Baltics, big sister, Mr. China, and that foolish American are the only people who know of my true gender. I have tried telling little sister before, so I wouldn't be quite as lonely, but Belarus is hopelessly delusional when it comes to me. In order to continue hiding my gender, I am constantly wearing makeup and a short wig to make myself appear less feminine.) Removing my index finger from the red call button on the intercom box, I end the call to Lithuania's room. I really do wish that I didn't have to make this dreadful trip; however, the boss is correct, my people need this. If only I didn't have to hide my gender around Mr. England, perhaps he would be more open to agreeing to my suite.

'Oh Mr. England, if only I could tell you and the others who and what I truly am without appearing as a weak-bodied female, or simply untrustworthy for hiding this from you for so long.' I sigh to myself, now looking forward to that new glass of vodka that Lithuania's bringing me.

~~~ The next morning: at the airport~~~

"Your bags h-have been loaded o-onto the plane, M-Ms. Russia." Latvia informs me. Giving him a small smile in thanks, I gently pat the top of his head before turning to Mr. Estonia.

"Mr. England has been made aware that I am planning on staying in his country to discuss trade with him, yes?" I ask the adorably technology oriented man in front of me.

"Yes ma'am, Ms. Russia. However, being that Mr. England is unsure of the time that you will be holed up in his country, negotiating new trade routes, he was unable to procure a place of lodging for you. In lieu of this, Mr. England has insisted that you take up residence in his home until you return." Mr. Estonia reports to me, knowing that I would want to have information on my lodging.

I immediately thank him and then board the plane, all the while thinking 'Dang it. Now, not only will I have to worry about maintaining my secret at all hours of the day, but I will also be forced to remain under the thumb of my interest until the moment that I return home.'

Walking absentmindedly to my first-class seating, I barely register the white inner walls of the plane on both sides of me and the red carpet beneath my feet. I recline tiredly in my assigned seat, exhausted from worrying all last night about the trip. The flight attendant soon begins to waltz about the cabin, reminding the passengers to turn off their phones. Being reminded to do this myself, I pull my new 'smartphone' from one of the many hidden pockets of my coat and unlock the screen, going to turn the phone on airplane mode. When I do unlock my smartphone though, all I can do is stare at the electronic screen in horror.

_"__Dear Ms. Braginskaya, _

_Please note that this trip is exceedingly important to the motherland. Should you fail to come home with at least plans for several new trade businesses and routes, you shall never again be allowed to see either of your sisters, and you will be permanently left by yourself. For so long as I am your boss, if you fail me again, you will only to be allowed to see the other nations at the yearly world summit. _

_~ Your Boss_

_P.s. – No letting Mr. Kirkland in on your dirty little secret. There are already too many people that know; you know what the Americans say, "loose lips sink ships." You wouldn't want any more 'ships' to be sunk because of you, would you?" _


	2. Chapter 1- Welcome

Chapter 1- Welcome: England's POV

*huff* 'Where is that chap? His plane was supposed to have arrived an hour ago' I think to myself, bitterly annoyed at being forced to wait it out in the crowded center of the London Airport. People rush past my sitting bench at nearly breakneck speeds; trying to catch connecting flights before they take off, running to the baggage claim so they don't miss their bags' turns on the belts, yelling to the entrance/exit doors to procure taxis home for themselves, it seems that that's all that my people do anymore: They simply rush from place to place, not knowing what moment could be their last.

'If only they would slow down enough to look around, then they would notice just how much they miss by trying to run around seeing everything.'

*Ding-Dong~* The announcement bell sounds, telling everyone present to stop for a second and listen up. "Please excuse the interruption; Flight 327 From Moscow, Russia has landed and is currently unloading all passengers. All customers whose travels have been delayed by the late plane will be recompensed immediately by the front desk. We apologize for any inconvenience made. Thank you and have a good day."

'Oh! That's Russia's flight.' I smile to myself, no longer letting myself be annoyed by my surroundings. 'Well, time to find the bloke and then head home to get him settled.' With that running through my head, I calmly stand and walk over toward the baggage claim area, not minding the large number of tourists and visitors that are pushing past me.

"I hope that he doesn't find staying in my home to be too odd. I may not particularly enjoy the man's company, but there really weren't hotels open when I checked last night." I think aloud to myself, visually scanning the mass of people for Russia's familiar beige coat and pale pink scarf.

I let loose a soft "eep!" noise, being startled out of my thoughts by the feel of a light hand landing on my shoulder.

"Oh, Mr. England, I apologize; it appears that I caught you unawares by accident." I turn around, recognizing the heavy Russian accent, and look up at the face of my new companion, noticing with a bit of chagrin that it looked like he was trying to hold in a bout of giggles.

*sigh* "It's alright chap." I forgive him, becoming slightly confused when he allows his face to flicker down with sadness for just a second at the word chap. Mentally shaking off the strange reaction, I ask him if he was prepared to leave the airport. He looks at the two army green duffle bags in his left hand and brown leather suitcase in his right and gives me a small smirk, nodding his blonde head yes.

Being the proper host that I am, I quickly, but politely, shoulder his two -heavy- duffle bags for him and then lead him outside to an awaiting taxi. Placing the bags into the trunk of the taxicab, I slide into the back seat with Russia and tell the driver my home address before relaxing into the cushion of the bench seat, calmly waiting out the silence of the ride.

~~~ Fem. Russia's POV ~~~

'Hmm, this is nice so far. The flight took longer than expected, but other than that, it is not yet so bad. Mr. England is acting cordial and remarkably well-mannered like always, so that much is good news for me. At least with him being in a pleasant mood, we may actually be able to get some work done this week.' I smile lightly to myself, almost laughing at my incredibly pale reflection in the glass of the taxi's window.

'Wait a minute…' I stop smiling and actually take the time to absorb the appearance of my reflection, '…am I, am I blushing? Since when do I ever blush?!' I question myself mortified at the thought of Mr. England noticing my rose colored cheeks and then possibly asking questions. 'I can't have him figuring out that I'm a girl.' I begin to mentally panic and decide to quickly glance over at him.

"Oh thank goodness. It looks like he's been too preoccupied with watching the scenery to notice my strange behavior.' I think in relief, taking just a second to admire his good looks, before wrenching my eyes away from the emerald eyed gentleman and back toward the window.

'Oh General Winter, if you can hear me, please help me through this ordeal. This is going to be one long and arduous trip.'


	3. Chapter 2- Home

Chapter 2- Home: Fem. Russia's POV

"Russia? Russia, are you there old chap?" I startle slightly, pressing myself into the corner wedge of space between the door of the taxi and the end of the bench seat. Looking to my right, where the distinctly British voice came from, the first thing that I notice is a pair of beautifully shinning emerald green eyes. Peering up from the gorgeous orbs, I take note of two overly thick eyebrows and then realize who it is that's addressing me.

Mr. England is kneeling on the bench opposite my side of the taxi, the tails of his black suit jacket getting slightly wrinkled in the process, partially leaning over me with his hand resting on my shoulder. 'Oh General Winter, this man is attractive! I wonder how he would loo-' I can feel my face warm up in a blush from my mind's unexpected thoughts. 'Nope! Not going there! Okay, shake it off, and keep your cool Anya. You were raised in the snow; you were born to play it cool.' I think to myself, shaking my head like a wet dog to rid myself of the offending thoughts.

"Russia, are you okay, lad?" Having seen me shaking my head and blushing, Mr. England calls my attention to himself by again calling my name and that accursed word, "lad;" goodness, I really do abhor that word.

"Ahh!" I cry out in surprise, Mr. England now entirely invading my personal space by having his face less than two feet from my own. "Wait, what?" I, not so, intelligently question back, just now fully (mentally) returned to the real world.

"You fell asleep on the car ride here; it's such a pity too; the car ride here was quite lovely. Anyway, I tried waking you up verbally, but that didn't seem to work, so I thought maybe physical contact would wake you up. However, once I did manage to get you awake, you seemed to have zoned me out. Since your face was flush, I was worried that you might have caught a cold or something like that." Mr. England explains, placing a hand on my forehead to check for a fever. "Well lad,' *flinch* 'we've arrived at my home. Let's get you inside and then I'll have Sebastian, my butler, show you to your room." That having been said, Mr. England withdrawals from the taxicab, and then steps back to allow me room to do the same.

"I'll grab your luggage for you." Mr. England informs me, leaving me awestruck self to stand and admire the beautifully manicured grounds.

When I was told that I would be staying with Mr. England in London, I was expecting a roomy penthouse apartment at best, not anything near as grand and breathtaking as what stands before me. The yard itself was gigantic, stretching far enough on either side of me to field an entire pasture full of horses or cattle. Looking in each direction, I try in vain to spot even a single patch of the lush, bright green grass that is any less vibrant than the rest of the well cared for lawn. Directly in front of me stands an imposing yet wonderfully twisted wrought iron gate that has the initials "A. K." bent into an ornamental curve at the top, and that has been swung wide open to welcome my arrival. Beyond the gates lies a long stretch of carefully paved pale gray concrete that leads to the front door, a row of alternating red and white rose bushes flanking each side in perfect symmetry. By far though, the most breathtaking portion of the land would be the amazingly crafted "house" of Mr. England's, which could easily be recognized as a classic English mansion. With hand lain brick, twin spires rising up from the ground on either side of the raised porch, several flattened roof peaks wrapped in the same metal work as the gate from which to look out upon the estate, and two marvelously shaped curved twin staircases leading to the front porch, Mr. England's 'home' was a true masterpiece.

~~~England's POV~~~

'What was that just now?' I think to myself, pulling Russia's twin duffle bags and briefcase from the trunk of the white and black striped taxi cap. 'As far as I was told, Russia has no issues with sickness due to traveling. If he did, I'm sure that that Estonia fellow would have warned me; he did strike me as someone who's well organized, after all. Oh well, I just hope that the lad's alright and is not suffering too badly from his downturned economy.' I close down the trunk of the cab and gently tap the back window to let the driver know that he was free to leave. Picking up Russia's oddly heavily bags, I turn around and notice that the chap seems to be a bit overly shocked at the appearance of my estate.

'I hope that it lives up to his expectations; I've not had anyone visit here in person for quite some time now.' I look upward to my home, contemplating how it might appear in the mysterious violet eyes of my Russian guest. 'Still though, it is rather entertaining seeing how truly speechless my home's made the lad. I really do hope that he likes it.' The fact that I'm as eager to please the boy strikes me a bit odd, but I quickly brush it off and make my way across the wide driveway to meet him.

Using my magic, I telepathically call Sebastian out here to take Russia's bags and escort him in. Just a minute later, Sebastian emerges from an inconspicuous, camouflaged door near the front gate. I move to stand by Russia and jolt him out of his seemingly mile-long stare.

Strolling leisurely toward Russia and I with a natural, almost feline, grace, Sebastian inquires with a haughty, I-know-better-than-you-do, tone, "Oh dear, master, do you truly believe that simply creeping up next to our honored guest and startling them out of their day dreams would be the best course of action?"

'Why does that butler always have to belittle me so? If it weren't for him being the most diligent and trustworthy man that I know, I would have fired him long ago, the arrogant arse.' I think in annoyance, just now registering that Sebastian has somehow gotten Russia to stop his spacing out without shocking the man into letting loose a surprisingly feminine scream or yelp.

"Sebastian,' I speak up after allowing Sebastian the opportunity to introduce himself to a newly attentive Russia. "You are to take Mr. Braginsky to his room along with his luggage and see to it that he is made to feel comfortable and at home for the time being."

Having given Sebastian his orders, and Russia's luggage, I accompany he and Russia on the walk down the drive and to the front entrance, reflecting on how lovely the roses are and how they seem to gift Russia and his soft smile with their beautiful, yet ephemeral, glow.

'Wait a tic,' my eyes widen and I stop walking, falling behind the others, at the realization of what I had just contemplated. 'What?!'


	4. Chapter 4

Hey awesome people! ^^

Two major things to be noted:

1) I would like to say thank you to my followers. You guys and gals are amazing, and I appreciate the online support very much; especially as a relatively new author of fanfiction, having the validation that you all really do enjoy my work is absolutely wonderful. :)

& 2) Well people, I'm stuck in my writing and I need help. I've got several ways in mind for how Iggy (England) shall learn of Anya's true gender and I'm not sure which one to type. That, my friends, is where you come in. There are three possible ideas, that are listed below, that I'm thinking of developing to divulge Anya's secret.

*1- Iggy finds out the old-fashion, and awkwardly hilarious, way (chooses the wrong shower&bathroom to walk into) with a little help from the ever- mischievous Sebastian.

*2- Alfred (U.S.A.) pops in for an impromptu visit and, being one of the few people that know that Anya's a girl, accidently lets it slip to Iggy in the middle of a conversation.

or *3- Iggy's big brother, Scotland, drops in for family business, and immediately picks up on the minute details of Anya's character that just don't add up properly. Thus, Scotland stirs up trouble for Anya, and England eventually figures it out while battling his own growing feelings for her.

Please note, also, that no-matter how you vote, the chapter following the poll results chapter will still be drama filled thanks to Russia's boss; this poll only effects the romance portion of the plot, not anything else.

Either way though, in order to continue the advancement of the story, England needs to find out about Anya and her secrets. I'm leaving the choice of how that happens to all of you lovelies. So, to vote, please either private message my account, or comment on the story, with your choices. Again, thank you all for being supportive, and I look forward to publishing the results in a week's time.


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